


I'm Super Cool

by Amsare



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Fantasizing, Flash Fic, M/M, Masturbation, Narcissism, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 02:11:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8309752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amsare/pseuds/Amsare
Summary: There's a mirror next to his bed so he can take a long look at himself: he's lying on his back, half naked...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Freddy's super cool.

Freddy switches on a cigarette, putting it between his lips. It’s been a long day but he's not tired, not yet. He’s put everything away – criminal records, guns, bullets – and he’s got the radio on. Some old song is playing and he leans back against the seat of the chair.  
   
It’s strange being all alone in that little apartment as Freddy and not as Mr. Orange... Being finally able to do whatever he wants to. A car passes outside the building, a dog barks in the distance.   
Everything’s so calm, it's crazy thinking he's risking his life these days.  
   
He inhales some smoke, putting the ashes in the ashtray. He stands up as he decides to go to his bedroom: it reminds him the one he had when he was a teenager still living at home with his parents. There are some superheroes posters on the wall, music cassettes in the corner of the room.  
   
Freddy lies on his bed, stretching his back.  
   
The fan in his room doesn't work as it was already broken the first time he had tried it. He should have bought a new one, as it was so fucking hot that night.  
   
He puts the cigarette in the ashtray on the bedside table and takes off his sweatshirt; he makes a groan of pleasure as some air enters from the open window.  
   
There's a mirror next to his bed so he can take a long look at himself: he's lying on his back, half naked... _Shit_ , he readjusts himself as he feels himself getting hard. He has never admitted to himself being such a narcissist, but well –  _why not?_  
   
Freddy smirks, he unbuttons his jeans and lowers the zip; he looks at his own reflection, sliding a hand into his pants, cupping his stiff cock.  
   
He groans as he moves up and down just to tease; then, he licks his palm and –  _that's_ better, the friction's fucking perfect now.  
   
He closes his eyes, fantasizing about anything – when there’s one image standing out among the others, a fantasy which makes him shiver and need more. No questions, just pleasure.  
   
It makes him crave his release.  
   
_Freddy is bent over Mr. Blonde's car, during a hot summer night and Mr. Blonde, Mr. fucking Blonde is right behind him, lowering down his jeans. They could be caught by anyone of the other guys, shit, shit, shit, but he doesn't seem to care. "How much you want it, kid?" Mr. Blonde asks him with a harsh voice, "how much you wanna be fucked?" And Freddy moans in response as he feels two wet fingers teasing him, opening up. He’s slicked soon and the stretch is so good, perfect, yes, and Freddy’s pretty sure Mr. Blonde wouldn’t stop even if the entire club had showed up right there in the parking lot –_ “AH!”  
   
Freddy comes over his hand and stains his stomach; he catches a glimpse of the picture he makes – red cheeks, parted lips – and he wishes somebody could see him right now.  
   
   
   
_I'm super cool._


End file.
